Pickling, Jamming and Jarring (May Attn: Any Candidates)

"Remember to keep an eye on the pot. It it gets too hot, it will burn the bottom and ruin the entire batch. Stir, girl!"

May flushed, a curse of her fair complexion and red hair, and sweat beaded down her temples. She had pulled kitchen duty for candidate chores and now was standing over a bubbling pot of redfruit jam. All morning, the kitchen women had been hard at work; pickling vegetables and breaking down fruit for jellies, jam and preserves. The kitchen was awash in sweet steam and May was drenched in sweat. A bit of her hair had escaped it's bun and now hung, limply, in her sight line.

"Did you know they soak some of these jams in the Lightning? The sugar and alcohol are supposed to make for quite the combination," Leja said happily, returning with newly cleaned jars, trying to scratch her nose with her shoulder while balancing armfulls of glass. "Have you had it? Apparently it goes fast, so they ran out before it was time to make new."

"I would too," Leja said agreeably, managing to set her jars down without losing anything. "There's something about stirring in a certain direction to make the bubbles less too, but I might have asked too many questions and been sent to get jars." She grinned, unrepentant. All Leja wanted to know was everything, ever.

"Have you made jam before? I imagine it's similar and very different from making medicines."